There's no more beauty in this world
by Pilotofmymind
Summary: There are times in our lives, that are few and far between, but they are either our favorite times, or our most dreaded, these are a few of Jacks. Jack's under aged in this, so possibly triggering. WIP


He was sitting on the docks, humming as he swung his legs, smiling widely as he looked out across the ocean, her blue green depths churning with the storm that was heading toward Tortuga. But he wasn't worried about the storm, he was young and happy, and finally free. He had his whole life ahead of him, however long or short it may turn out to be.

A ship was docking, and he climbed to his feet grabbing his boots in one hand as he trotted over to the captain as the man walked heavily down the plank as soon as it was extended. "Are you takin' on men, mate?" he drawled lazily as he began to pull his boots on, looking a right spectacle as he leaped about pulling his boot on.

The captain laughed as he watched the boy, though his first mate had grabbed him by the arm and tried to turn him away, "Aye. But aren't ye a little young to be tryin' to sign on with a pirate?" the captain asked incredulously as the boy marched up to him, looking up at him and grinning.

"I've just finished me service on a ship with pirates, maybe ye've heard of her? _Sea Malefica_?" a few of the men gathered around the captain inhaled sharply, evidently scared of the name, and the boy smiled wider, glad.

"Aye, I've heard of her. Her captain is a cruel, cruel man." the pirates nodded and the boy merely shrugged, "Alright. Ye can sign on with me, I like yer confidence." the boy nodded, still smiling and gave an exaggerated bow,

"Thankee, Captain."

* * *

><p>Jack was elated.<p>

Finally he had gotten what he wanted. He was free to do as he pleased, to go where he wanted, and all of the world lay out before him, let Teague be mad, he'd done what was right by him, just as Teague himself would have.

He was happy.

Or he would be happy, if it weren't for the obnoxious first mate that seemed to hate him for no reason other then his good looks and charming personality. Strange man, really.

The sun was setting, and Jack felt his heart rising with the waves crashing against the ships hull. He knew if Teague ever caught up to them he'd have hell to pay for his desertion, but part of him felt as if his father had probably laughed out loud when he'd learned of Little Jacky's trickery. Again.

Jack had been smarter this time though. He'd left Tortuga as soon as he could, rather then stay and play around. Last time he'd had a right amount of fun, and enjoyed the time he'd spent away from his father and the man's rather insane crew, but he hadn't really thought much of leaving Tortuga, though the sea had called to him in a way he couldn't quite deny, he'd taken his time until one day there Teague had been, coveting him back to the ship, and scolding him in a fathers tone, rather then a captains. Jack had been a bit too drunk to really think much of it, but now... now he was free, and he wouldn't soon be back upon the _Sea Malefica_.

* * *

><p>But at next port who should Jack see standing at the docks at the bottom of the plank waiting for him but Captain Teague. Jack almost turned and ran back aboard the ship, but when he turned the irritable first mate was there, and he would must rather face his angry father then the man who oft lashed him for next to nothing.<p>

So Jack sashayed down the plank, throwing his arms open in mock greeting and cried, "Teague! Imagine seein' you here, what can I do ye for?" he heard the first mate groan, obviously misconstruing the sentence.

And Teague actually smiled at him, much to his own surprise, and held an arm open, Jack, almost nervously, sidled up to the man to allow his arm to drape lazily over his shoulders, and Teague began walking him down to the end of the docks, ignoring the captains calls from Jack's current ship (what a silly thing to name a ship _Soul Mist_. What did that even _mean_?)

Jack was nervously twisting a ring around his finger when Teague made him to sit down, and sat slowly beside the boy, drawing him close they sat silently watching the sun setting over the sea. It looked gorgeous. "I'm proud of ye boy." Teague said as he rubbed Jack's arm softly.

"Really?" Jack sounded incredulous as he gazed up at his father. He hadn't, honestly hadn't been expecting Teague to say that. Something more along the lines of 'Get on me ship now, and I'll only lash ye a little.' would have seemed more proper. But this was strange.

Teague opened his mouth to speak, as he reached up and removed his hat, when someones voice interrupted them, and Jack and Teague both turned slightly, Teague to look over his left shoulder, and Jack to look over his right, "'ey! What're ye doin' Jack?" the captain sounded agitated, and Jack barely remembered that he was drunk, but he knew his father, and knew that he didn't right appreciate being interrupted.

"Nothin'." Jack said as he looked at Teague, he could already see the anger in the mans eyes, and maybe it was the possessive way the captain was looking at him, or the condescending tone he was using, but Jack suddenly felt afraid his father was going to shoot the captain.

Teague looked at Jack slowly, some of the anger directed at him, and Jack was startled by how easily Teague went from fatherly to captainly in a matter of seconds, "Jacky, are ye two?" he didn't have to ask anything else, his tone, and the look in his eyes asked it all, and Jack was suddenly _very_ frightened as he shook his head, stuttering out a soft;

"N-no, Dad."

Teague stood swiftly replacing his hat, and rounded on the captain and his men, Jack flinched when he saw Teague's hand go for his gun, and the captain and his men all gave a start as Teague pointed the pistol at the man, clicked the hammer back, and smirked, before pulling the trigger. Jack was the only one that flinched, he noticed with an embarrassed flush, Teague took a few steps forward, and groaned loudly as he covered his face with his hand, disappointed in his rash decision, "Jacky?"

"Yes?" Jack asked scrambling to his feet and moving to stand at Teague's side looking down at the dead captain, cringing slightly he looked away.

"Who was this miscreants first mate?" Jack saw the way the men exchanged glances as if they didn't understand why Teague hadn't just asked _them_, Jack raised his hand slowly and pointed to the tall, rather cruel first mate. The red head looked taken aback, as if he hadn't expected Jack to tell the truth, and with the way he'd been cruel to Jack he wouldn't have blamed him. Teague pursed his lips, displeased as he'd seen the way this particular man had looked at his son, but he gave a slight shrug trusting his son, as he whipped a dagger out, and saw the first mate take a nervous step back, and Teague laughed, rolling his eyes, as he knelt down and pulled the dead captains eyelid back, driving the dagger into the mans wooden eye he heard a few men groan as he pulled the thing free, rising to his feet he pulled the eye free and began walking toward the men, tossing the eye to the first mate who almost didn't catch it, "Keep it." Teague snapped when he saw the man make a movement as if to drop the eye, "It's one of the nine pieces of eight. Congratulations, you're now a pirate lord. Captain...?"

"B-Barbossa!" The first mate, now captain stuttered, "Hector Barbossa, Captain Teague."

Teague grinned as he looked back at Jack, the father-son bonding moment ruined, he tipped his hat slightly, smiling slyly, "I'll be seein' ye, Jacky. And until then... be careful." Jack nodded slightly, frowning as Teague sauntered away, the group of men parting to let him through so that he could get to his ship, but he paused to look up at the ship that was now Hectors, and laughed heartily, "I'd be getting' a new ship, else wise renamin' her, if I were you, boy." he said looking at Hector who nodded grimly, and Teague sauntered away laughing.

* * *

><p>Jack was tired. And he regretted telling the truth when Teague had said show the first mate, because since Barbossa had become captain things had changed, and he'd not been allowed to do as he'd pleased, but rather put to work. Hard work. And he'd taken to passing out at night, and sleeping a deep dark sleep. He didn't dream any more, and he didn't like that.<p>

Tonight he hadn't even made it below deck, but rather slipped down against the railing, crammed in-between a crate and a barrel, it wasn't comfortable by any means, but he was too tired to head below deck, and try and get comfortable in his hammock, with all of the annoying men making strange noises, and sometimes trying to come to him in the dark.

He felt safe up on the deck. It made him think of all of the times he and Teague had sat with their legs hanging over the edge of the ship, leaning their chests against the railing, lazily talking about nothing in particular. It made him think of home.

He was almost asleep when he noticed someone was towering over him, and he opened his eyes with a great effort and looked up to see Barbossa standing above him. Jack tried to smile, but the strange look Barbossa was giving him stilled the smile on his lips, and he spoke, slowly, carefully, "I done me work, captain."

Barbossa gave Jack a strange little smile as he leaned down to the boy, and caught his wrist in long slender fingers, and gently tugged the boy to his feet, Jack looked confused, but Barbossa didn't mind as he slowly wrapped an arm around Jack's shoulders and began to lead him across the deck, and Jack didn't miss the way he was swaying on his feet, or the strange glint in his eyes, but it was Barbossa's question that surprised him; "How old are ye boy?" he asked as he carefully led Jack into his cabin.

"I'll be turnin' sixteen this June." Jack replied casually, though he was wondering what Barbossa was driving at, and why they were in the captains cabin. Barbossa nodded, almost thoughtfully as he stroked a hand across Jack's hair, as he motioned for the boy to take a seat up to his desk. Jack had been in this room before, when their previous captain had invited him in for a spot of rum, and it had never felt strange. Foreboding. As it does now. "Thankee, Cap'n," Jack manages to speak in an even, flat tone of voice, as he takes a step to the side to slip out from underneath those long elegant hands, to keep the cold at bay, and he smiles weakly, "But I'd like to go below deck now. To sleep."

Barbossa looks at him strangely as he takes a step toward the desk, he reaches slowly for the bottle of rum, and watches as Jack's eyes linger on the bottle, and as he picks the glass up slowly, gently, he raises an eyebrow, pouring the glass full, and smiling as he extends his hand toward Jack. Offering him more then just a glass of rum, and he watches, hoping, as Jack slowly, almost hesitantly, reaches up to take the glass from his hand. And Barbossa marvels at how deftly the boy moves his fingers, and the burning feeling he's been feeling deep inside has awoken with a passion he'd not know he could hold for another human, and he _has_ to have this boy. Has to possess him.

Jack looks a little confused, and though Barbossa is sure it has something to do with the rum he'd just handed the boy, he wouldn't be too surprised to hear Jack say it was for the kind way he was treating him. Jack apparently sees something in Barbossa's expression he doesn't like for he sips slowly from the rum, and looks at the older man cautiously, "Thankee Captain Barbossa, but I really should head below deck now."

"Call me Hector." Barbossa says as he slowly wraps an arm around Jack's shoulders and he feels the boy stiffen under his touch, and Jack is just so small that Barbossa can easily pretend he's a woman, but he knows he isn't going to. But he'll tell Jack that later, when he asks why. Barbossa puts his finger tips on the bottom of the glass and lightly pushes it up, and Jack raises it slowly, and takes a sip, and Barbossa just grins, because Jack is so trusting that this is going to be too easy.

* * *

><p>Jack doesn't know how much he's had to drink, doesn't understand why his vision is so blurred. But he understands, still, that he needs to get out of this room. That he has to get away from Barbossa, because he's touching him the way another man shouldn't, and he's trying to kiss him. And Jack really, really regrets letting Barbossa lead him in here to begin with.<p>

"Stop," Jack hears his own weak voice, spiked with pleasure as Barbossa cups him roughly through his pants, and he realizes that were he in Barbossa's position he wouldn't think that he actually wanted him to stop.

But he does want him to stop.

And he knows he should be fighting, but his arms feel heavy, and he's so very tired. And Barbossa is laughing against Jack's neck, and it's all Jack can do not to whimper, because Barbossa is a strange person, and seems totally unobtainable, and he's felt a strange pull toward the man for so long, that the fact that he's pushing him back on the bed and climbing ontop of him leaves Jack breathless, and hard. Wanting. But he knows in his foggy mind that this is wrong, because this isn't like it should be. Barbossa is rough (but really would he want him any other way?), and he's strong, and...

Jack doesn't want this.

Curiosity is one thing. He's always curious. He always wants whatever he can't have. But this is different. This is... going to be very, very painful.

And as Barbossa tugs at his pants Jack lets out a groan, and tried to hold them on, "Cap'n," he slurs, and Barbossa kisses his neck softly, slowly, tantalizingly, and Jack's grip goes slack, "I don't wanna do this." Jack murmurs as Barbossa tugs his pants down around his knees.

Barbossa doesn't respond, just rolls his eyes as he stands slowly, and Jack wonders if he's going to let him go, but Barbossa is pulling his boots off, and Jack groans again, as he tries to move away. Barbossa doesn't even seem to notice as he throws Jacks pants to the floor, and he's rid of his own coat and shirt in mere seconds, it would seem. Jack tiredly tried to cover himself as Barbossa shed his own pants, and upon laying eyes on the glory of his captain Jack's face flushed a deep scarlet, and he felt an unwanted twitch from his own member, and his throat is suddenly tight. He wants to speak, wants to protest, but he can't seem to form the words, because he's never seen a man with a prick _that_ big before, and it's a bit unsettling to think that Barbossa wants to put it _in _him_. _Very unsettling, actually.

"Calm down, Jaack." Barbossa says, smirking, and Jack realizes that he's staring, and quickly turns his gaze away as Barbossa moves forward, and climbs onto the bed with him, and moves over top of him, and though Jack _wants_ to push him away, wants to tell him no (again) he can only lean back when the other man tries to kiss him, because he still can't speak.

Barbossa let out an annoyed sigh as he put a hand roughly on Jack's shoulder and forcefully pushed the boy down onto the bed, Jack was obviously going to make this hard for him. Jack mumbled something unintelligible, and again Barbossa rolled his eyes, "Jus' lay there boy, this'll go much easier if ye don't thrash." Jack looked down right confused as Barbossa smiled wickedly at him, before grabbing his shoulders, not seeming to take notice of the way his fingernails were digging into Jack's shoulder, and rolled him over face first on the bed.

Jack scowled as his mind tried to catch up with his situation, he was trying to think of something to say to convince Barbossa not to do this when he heard the man spit into his hand. God forbid he use some oil, Jack thought wryly as he tried to push himself up away from the bed, but Barbossa was still holding him down, and, gods, that hurt!

Jack bit his bottom lip as he fisted his hands in the sheet as Barbossa slowly pushed a finger into him, Barbossa made a strange noise and Jack vaguely realized that he hadn't eaten all day, and he was really, really hungry.

But it was no time to be thinking of food.

Jack didn't like the exploratory feel of Barbossa's finger in him, but he liked it even less when Barbossa slowly pushed another into him.

Jack realized that he'd never felt a pain like this, and let out a soft whimper as he pressed his face into the bed, and tried to concentrate on anything but the pain coming from his ass. It really didn't seem fair to him. And again Barbossa was putting another finger in him, and Jack just wanted to _punch_ the captain.

"Jaaack," Barbossa half moaned as he leaned down over the boy, and though he heard a muffled 'Stop' coming from the boy he ignored it, "Relax." he whispered as he kissed behind Jack's ear, before nipping at his earlobe, "Ye'll enjoy it." Barbossa tugged his fingers out, and watched as Jack relaxed, and smirked, he was so naïve.

Shifting back onto his knees Barbossa leaned forward to grab the small bottle he had sitting on his desk, Jack eyed his hand curiously, but Barbossa ignored his questioning glance, and opened the bottle, pouring a bit of oil (olive oil. Which wasn't what he preferred, but it was better then spit, he supposed.) into the palm of his hand he slicked his penis with it.

Tightening the cap once again Barbossa dropped the bottle to the floor, and shifted over Jack, using a hand to line himself up with Jack's entrance, he heard some sounds of protest, but ignored them as he thrust in, Jack gave a low moan of pain into the mattress, and Barbossa laughed as he leaned down, his mouth close to Jack's ear once again, and breathlessly whispered, "Be I first to make port?" which Jack promptly ignored.

Barbossa shifted slightly, and stopped, squeezing his eyes shut, he inhaled sharply. Jack was so, so very tight. This was going to be so much better then he'd imagined, even if Jack was asking him to stop (but he could ignore that) now, he would soon be begging for more.

He wouldn't last long, Barbossa realized as he shifted his hips slightly, letting out a low moan as he buried his face in the crook of Jack's neck. This close he could hear Jack whimpering, and idly wondered if maybe he hadn't been thorough enough with his fingers. Probably not. But he didn't care much, he enjoyed the way Jack felt right _now_.

Barbossa grunted as he pulled back slightly, he could barely stand to pull out this far, because it felt so good. But thrusting back in made it all better, and Barbossa closed his eyes as he sat up, slowly, carefully, gripping Jack's hips tightly, he began moving his hips slowly, carefully.

Barbossa set a steady rhythm, and though Jack was slightly squirming he ignored it, and continued to move his hips. Jack was really, Barbossa thought wryly as he moved a hand over the expanse of the boys back, overreacting. It couldn't _possibly _hurt that much.

* * *

><p>Jack didn't like being on this ship any more. He hadn't liked it since the night Barbossa ('<em>Jus' call me Hector, Jaack<em>') had taken him into his cabin and done... Jack scowled, he didn't really like to think about it. Not the first incident, nor the reoccurring incidents. And though he was angry over them, he just pretended they hadn't happened, even as it occurred.

Jack sighed heavily as he folded his arms over his chest and looked to the sky, grinning suddenly Jack raised a hand to point to the sky, "Look, an albatross." he said cheerfully, and a few of the men turned toward him, with blanched faces and Jack understood why. A few nights ago Barbossa had killed the only Christian man among them, for refusing to act on piracy on a Sunday eve.

Jack heard the captain laughing wickedly at the helm over the reactions of the men around Jack. Jack was the only one who didn't seem to take it as a threat, but rather waved the bird down to him, though the men protested the action. Maybe that was why he wished to covet the boy so badly. More so then treasure.

Barbossa grinned as he stood watching Jack, the men were telling him to let the bird be, but he was whistling at it and extending his hands to the sky as if the bird could lift him from the ship and carry him to the heavens so high above. Barbossa laughed again, as he whistled at the boy, "Jaaack," he called and Jack whirled around elegantly, like a dancer, to look at him, a smile on his lips. He looked playful tonight. Barbossa felt a warmth coiling in the pit of his stomach, maybe Jack would reciprocate tonight.

But Jack's expression changed quickly, from one of an almost cute expression to one of utter horror, and Barbossa frowned, canting his head to the side, and one by one the men turned slowly, and Barbossa was confused by their expressions. They all looked frightened. Even Jack. "What is it, Jaack?" Barbossa finally snapped, and Jack raised a slightly trembling hand to point to some far point behind him. And leave it to Jack to do something so foolish, when words would have sufficed just fine.

Barbossa turned around and saw what it was that frightened the men so. A sea storm was heading toward them, fast. The sky was darkening, and Barbossa could tell by the look of the storm that it was either going to make or break his crew. He silently wondered if Jack would break, "All hands on deck!" Barbossa bellowed as he rushed to the helm. The men scattered as if there had been a hive of bees thrown into their midst.

How had they missed that storm?

Barbossa couldn't believe they'd let this sneak up on them! Lazy bastards! He took helm himself, knowing he was the only man here able to steer through what was coming toward them. Above them thunder boomed, and lightening split the sky.

It started to rain and Barbossa thought it was rather strange how fast this storm had come on, and he looked around the area for the albatross, and saw that it was not in the area. But he vowed, regardless, to lash Jack for calling the albatross to them, and bringing a storm down on them. As he was positive that the storm was a curse from the bird.

The ship was pitching violently and Barbossa couldn't help but laugh challengingly at the storm, as he steered the ship, trying to get away from the storm.

Jack liked storms at sea. Most times. But now, the ship was pitching violently, and the waves crashing up against the deck were making it too slick for him to walk, and now... he didn't like storms so much. And crazy Barbossa was laughing. Actually laughing. And to Jack it seemed as if he were having a jolly good time of it.

Jack and the other men, he wasn't sure who was beside him, were wrestling to keep the canvas tied, when a particularly vicious wave rocked the ship. Jack lost his footing, and stumbled back, he was glad to see that he had hit the railing (and when had it gotten so dark?) , but the rain was hard and heavy, and as the ship rocked again, harder, he found himself going over the edge.

Jack grasped through the air wildly, but he was quickly thrown into the cold, cold, unforgiving sea. Maybe he shouldn't have called that albatross...


End file.
